


Let's Go Out With A Bang

by BrutalPipeMurder



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F for Tim...., Gen, Living mannequins, Panic Attacks, Post Season 3, Ringmaster!Tim AU, Skin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:07:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24213391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrutalPipeMurder/pseuds/BrutalPipeMurder
Summary: Timothy Stoker was legally dead. That didn't explain why they couldn't find his body in the exploded wax museum. It also didn't explain why the dead man woke up made of plastic.
Comments: 19
Kudos: 45





	1. Chapter 1

The last thing he remembered was melting flesh. The pain was unbearable. He knew he took out most of the damned place though. He died with a grin on his face. His signature smile. But despite that, the fact that he died, here he was. In a warehouse with people crowded around him. They all looked not quite right. He quickly recognised them as ‘Stranger Aligned’ as Jon would call it. 

Jon. Shit! Is everyone okay?? Tim looked around, noticing his neck was certainly stiff. He shivered, well, kind of. It was more of a rough shudder. He stood up and noticed his movements were certainly less fluid. Everyone in the crowd grinned and stared at him in wonder. “What the fuck are you all looking at?” He barked at them and they instantly stopped grinning and looked away from him. They obeyed like dumb dogs.

Why the fuck are they listening to him? He looked down at himself. And screamed. Not in pain, despite the crack his neck gave. His scream was not quite right. Just like the people surrounding him. But as he looked down at his body… he realised. His… his skin…

Was no longer skin. All that remained was smooth, white plastic. Is he… an avatar…? One of the very monsters that killed his brother? One of the very monsters that he and his friends swore to uncover? One of the people that was not quite right came up to him and put something at his feet. It was… skin. Human skin. He wanted to throw up. Shuddering, he took a step back, everyone around him moving to avoid touching him for a reason unknown to him. Still shuddering in fear, the one who had brought the skin spoke up.

“It’s yours,” it began hesitantly. Tim glared back, his eyes made of plastic yet still shone with defiance. The others began chattering amongst themselves. Some looked like him, some looked normal and some were just… not right in a way he couldn’t place. The one that gave him ‘his’ skin moved back slightly, gesturing at the skin. Did… did it want him to touch it? Feel it? Wear it?

Tim didn’t want to go near it. He really didn’t. No matter what these freaks said he didn’t want to touch the skin. He didn’t know what was happening. “What… what do you want from me? What’s happening?” He asked, his confidence fading just the slightest as all of the not-people stared at him. They all let out a noise that he thought was supposed to be laughter but just sounded… wrong. So so wrong.

The one with his skin replied, with a bright smile that was supposed to be happy but was just threatening. “You’re our new ringmaster, of course! You killed Nikola! We need a new leader, and if you killed our old one, it means you’re strong enough to lead us!” The rest grin and cheer at the thought. So this was… a group decision. The thought was almost hilarious to him. They banded together to make him into a monster.

Tim looked at the crowd in surprise. Before he began to chuckle. His smooth chuckles seemed… wrong. They weren’t like the group’s robotic cackles. It was… like the old Tim. It was like it was that Tim. The Tim before Sasha disappeared. The Tim before he met Jon. The Tim before he met… Elias. Elias. Elias is the cause of all of this. This mess is all his fault. His chuckles turned into cackles. Cackles that would seem insane, were it not for the sadness in his tone. The Strangers cocked their heads as he laughed. Despite the fear and sadness in his laughter, no tears ran down his face like they should.

He paused in his half-psychotic laughter to think. An idea came into his head. If he… if he became the Ringmaster like they wanted him to, maybe he could… save people. A sneer appeared on Tim’s plastic face and he went up to the skin, beginning the disgusting process of putting it on like a full body suit. But it felt better when he was back in his skin. Everyone around him cheered. They all wore grins that were wrong. Things like ‘Ringmaster Timothy!’ and ‘life for the fair!’ were shouted as he flexed his plastic fingers.

“Let it be known, I’m not doing this for you freaks! I’m being the Ringmaster for me and me only!” He yells, his tinny voice ringing out through the warehouse as he called to them with irritation in his tone. His voice sounded much more like his old one in his skin. A Stranger closest to him handed him a Ringmaster’s outfit, which he put on gladly. Being naked in front of a bunch of literal Strangers was unnerving, even though they couldn’t do anything to him.

With the outfit on, he felt… cheerful. Like the better Tim. A grin grew on his face. Guess he has to get into the new persona if he was to be a ringmaster. “Well, everyone, Ringmaster Timothy Stoker has joined the circus!”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim gets some news. And then goes to visit a friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyyyaaaa. So, I know I'm bitch and haven't updated in years, or some shit. But like......... here...... have this. *i gently hand you more ringmaster!tim*

It took awhile for him to get used to it. The feeling of his old skin shifting against the plastic, the disgusting cheerfulness he felt while wearing his outfit. But most of all, it took a while to get used to the crowd of clowns and strangers that seemed to praise his every move. His smile always seemed to be just a little bit wrong, and it made him feel horrible. And for some reason, he felt happy. Out of nowhere, he’d smile. He didn’t mean to. He sure didn’t feel like smiling a lot of the time.

Despite the anger he felt, he missed the institute. He missed Martin and his dumb tea. He missed Jon and his stupid condescending tone. He missed Sasha. God, did he miss Sasha. But she was gone, wasn’t she? Taken by the things that serve under the same god as him. 

“Ringmaster! Miss Perry is here to speak with you,” one of the Strangers called to him. Ah, another thing that was annoying. He had no issue with the Desolation, no, they were allied with him after all. But Jude was rather strange. Almost like she was happy that he was the Ringmaster. Him in particular. He let out a sigh, adjusting his top hat and slapping on a large grin. 

“Let her in!” Tim replied, sitting back on his chair and messing with the red velvet of his coat. The fabric was slightly irritating under his fingertips but he didn’t mind it. As Miss Perry entered, she saw the New Ringmaster adjusting his buttons as well, him peeking up to see her and smiling that classic Stranger smile. He jumped to his feet and grinned, spreading his arms wide. “Welcome back, Miss Perry.” 

As she entered the room, Jude gave a rather irritated look. She always hated the theatrics, so he’s heard. But, the Stranger and the Desolation had an… alliance, so they had to get along. The Circus was the main point of the Stranger, and Jude was one of the strongest Desolation avatars at the moment, so they didn’t really have much of a choice. “Ringmaster Stoker,” she greeted. She wasn’t usually one for politeness, but she apparently admired the way he won over the Circus, so she was nice to him. 

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?” Tim asked, ushering Jude over to a table in the corner of the large room. There were two seats and he sat himself down in one, gesturing for her to take the other. 

Jude chuckled and sat down. “Nothing much, just to tell you that your old boss is in prison.” Tim’s eyes widened slightly. What. Elias was in prison? How the fuck didn’t he know this? He gave her a pleasant look that told her to continue, even if he was boiling with rage on the inside. “Yeah, for the murder of Jurgen Leitner. It happened a while back, but I figured no one had told you. You Strangers don’t get out much.”

Tim forced a chuckle. “Yes, it’s hard to get out when you’re legally dead. Plus, the worm scars are rather distinctive,” he replied, gesturing to the circular scars that littered his face and exposed forearms. He usually had his sleeves rolled up on account of him getting warm. It was strange, considering that he was technically plastic. Yet another thing he didn’t understand.

“Oh, come on. The Archivist is in a coma, the assistant is turning Lonely, and the rest don’t fucking care. Go outside for once, Stoker,” usually, he’d say no. But with all the news he was just given out of nowhere, he was admittedly kind of curious about what was happening outside. The ringmaster let out a hum. 

“Fine. I will. Is that all, Miss Perry?” He asked, giving her a small, yet very very fake smile. She chuckled and nodded, standing up and dusting herself off.

“Yes. Goodbye, Ringmaster.” She muttered, leaving the room without another word. Well. That was an interaction. Tim still was just sitting on the chair, a look of tiredness and vague intrigue still in his eyes. Whatever. He can leave whenever he wants. Maybe he could go visit someone. Well, he didn’t know many people. Not anyone that’s alive/conscious/wouldn’t be freaked out. Though… maybe they don’t have to be. 

Tim blinked and called out to anyone listening. “Do we have any normal clothes that would fit me?” He asked, to any Stranger that could hear him. A lot of shuffling, yelling and fitting later, Tim was now dressed in some black slacks, a red and orange print button up and some suspenders, looking down at himself with a smug grin. “You still got it, Stoker,” he chuckled. One of the Stranger’s passed him a blazer as he left. He put it on lazily and grinned. He’s gonna go visit an old friend. Well, he has to do something first. 

He pulls out his phone. He only really uses it when he really needs to. He’s more of a face to face guy. Some quick texts to Jude and he knew which hospital Jon was in. Lovely. His grin spread further. 

With some flirting, lying and walking, he finally got to the hospital. Nothing was really eventful (plus the author is too cold and tired to write that much) so he didn’t really pay attention to the things around him. He entered the hospital and made a beeline for the receptionist. The man gave him a look and smiled. “What can I do for you?”

Tim gave him one of his best smiles. “I’m here to visit a friend. Jonathan Sims. I would’ve visited earlier, but I was only recently informed that he’s been hurt.” He leaned forward slightly, looking into the man’s eyes. The receptionist blushed and nodded, giving him the room number. Another sweet smile and Tim was off. A good thing about keeping his skin, he’s still handsome. 

The ringmaster walked into the room. No heartbeat, no steady beeps. This surprised him but with all the fucked up things that have happened, it didn’t bother him much. He sat in the guest chair and looked at Jon. “Hey, Jon. It’s Tim. Yeah. I know what you’re thinking. I’m not dead. The Stranger got to me. Kinda fucked up.” 

The rambling was a small comfort. It felt nice, actually. Faces changed so quickly in the Circus. An unchanging face, and a familiar one to boot. It was nice. He talked idly to the unconscious body for a while. About half an hour. He told him how he was the Ringmaster now, and no, he didn’t plan on attacking the Institute. Not yet anyway, he had joked. But eventually, he realised how strange this was. 

He didn’t like Jon. Not before he died, anyways. Why was he so desperate for comfort? A frown crossed his face and he stood up. Glancing at Jon, he gave a smile. “Sorry, Jon. Gotta go. I have a circus to get back to. Hope the rest of your… nap goes well.” And he left.

He tried to ignore the feeling of loneliness he got when he left the hospital.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whoopsies.....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Tim has a bit of a panic attack. Nothing too big, but in case you don't like that stuff, look out.
> 
> Guess I updated more... thanks to the people on my discord server for helping me out with this chapter!! :)))

After getting back from the hospital, Tim had a strange weight in his chest. It was weird, considering he hadn’t really felt any intense emotions since he became the Ringmaster. It felt bad. He didn’t like the feeling. It felt like someone was sitting on his chest. He got it whenever he thought about Jon or Martin. But it was even more crushing when he thought about Sasha. 

Sasha.

A look of melancholy crossed his face. He hadn’t cried since he became the Ringmaster either. It felt like the makeup and coat blocked out anything that might cause something like that. But whenever he thought about Sasha and what happened to her, his vision blurred and his eyes got watery. He never really cried. The tears never got out of his eyes, but it felt like they should. 

Like usual, his vision blurred and he turned away, looking towards the ground. There’s no way to get her back… right? He looked up, frowning. Where are the clowns? “I need someone here!” He called in his loud, Ringmaster tone that suggested no funny business. The first person that arrived was Breekon. He looked sullen without Hope, Tim almost felt bad for the bastard. “Is there any way to get back a person stolen by the NotThem?” 

Breekon cocked his head, speaking up in the gruff tone. “Why? Lookin’ for your old lady love?” He was joking. Tim knew he was joking but his fist clenched, the white leather crinkling and creaking as it rubbed against itself. Breekon recognised the look of anger and quickly backtracked. “I ‘unno. Not that I know of, but I don’t meddle with those.”

Tim took a few breaths to ground himself. So… there… could be a way. He decided that he’d get some people to do more research on that. Well, if they could be counted as people. The man lets out a grumble. He needs to clear his head. Walking to the hospital was calming, maybe he should go for a walk again. “Breekon, get me some normal clothes, would you?”

Technically, Breekon didn’t work within the Circus, but he hung out there a lot. Especially recently. He’s practically resigned himself to circus work. The Stranger nodded his head and left as Tim stripped himself of his gloves and hat. Once the ‘man’ brought back some clothes, Tim changed and left the Circus. 

He decided that it would be fun to go to the park. Maybe he would see a dog. He loves dogs. A smile crossed his face at the thought. Shit, he needs to remember to breathe and blink. He doesn’t do those things naturally anymore. He smiled at the people he passed.

Tim reached the park in record time, looking over the lush area. It was rather cold in London, so the fog didn’t really bother him as he walked down the park’s trail. As he walked, he thought about everything. God, what the fuck went wrong with his life. He just wanted a stable job. Even a partner would’ve been amazing. But no, he got stuck with the dead friends and circus clown package. 

“..-im…?” 

…. Did someone just recognise him?

He slowly turned to see the face of Martin Blackwood, who looked absolutely horrified. Tim’s eyes widened slightly and he took a step back. Oh god. Oh no.

“Tim… is… is that you?” Martin asked quietly, also taking a step back. His orange tinged hair had started to gain little white hairs amongst it and the tall man breathed out fog in the cold air. “Or… did… you take his skin…?”

Tim shakily took another step back. Seeing Jon was emotional. But that man was asleep and he couldn’t recognise him. But Martin… he never did anything wrong. And he was awake. “I…” His voice trailed off against his will. Even just seeing Martin was making his eyes water. Of course. This is the perfect time to cry. “Martin…?”

Martin took one step forward, making Tim take a step back in response. This is so fucked up. Why now? Right now? When he was emotionally unstable and also a fucking mannequin?? Well, the second part was kind of unavoidable at this point but-- that wasn’t important! “Tim… is that actually you?” Though the words were soft, compassionate, his face was stony. It made Tim feel uneasy. Where was the comforting smile that Martin so frequently wore?

A look of slight guilt and fear crossed Tim’s face. “I… I need to… I need to go,” he murmured to himself, taking more steps back. He can’t do this. He isn’t ready to do this. He craved the feeling of his gloves. The sense of euphoria from being needed in the Circus. He needed stability. This… this isn’t okay, he needs to leave. He feels more tears welling up in his eyes. No. This can’t be happening. Why is he so put off by this? Why is this making him panic?

Martin moved forward as well, his stony facade melting into vulnerability. “Please… is it you?” The large man’s voice cracked. He sounded so… sad. Tim looked like he was about to cry. The Ringmaster was breathing heavily and his voice was thick when he spoke up.

“I... “ He took a deep breath. “Yeah… it’s me… but… but I need to leave. I can’t… I can’t do this. I’m… I’m not me...” Martin looked absolutely heartbroken at that. Tim felt like he was shattering. The facade and reputation he had built was falling down. Suddenly, the feeling of someone sitting on his chest returned. 

He stopped moving backwards, just standing there as Martin moved forward, towards him. To be honest, he expected to be attacked. He was a monster. A freak. But all he got was a hug. Warmth coated him and Tim let out a surprised noise. But within a second, he felt overwhelmed. This isn’t how it’s supposed to go. He’s… this isn’t right. Abruptly, Tim shoves Martin back. “No! You- you- you don’t do that! I’m a monster now! You-!” Tim’s voice had taken a rather tinny tone. One that certainly wasn’t human, but in a way that was hard to place.

He roughly ran his unfeeling, cold hands through his hair, tugging and pulling as he moved further back. Martin stood, stock still in surprise. Tim was still yelling, almost incoherently. “You-! You can’t just-!! I’M JUST LIKE THEM! THE ONES THAT KILLED HER! THE ONES THAT NEARLY GOT JON KILLED! WHY DON’T YOU HATE ME?? Why…” The tone of his voice was no longer easy to listen to. Tears were streaming down his cheeks. And despite the fact that he didn’t need to breathe, somehow his body had begun to hyperventilate. Tim froze, his body unwillingly crying and breathing faster and faster. No one was around, but he hated this. The fog curling around the two. “I… I need to go. Circus to run… and all…”

And he left. He couldn’t fucking do this. He ran all the way home. Home. Home was the circus now. No matter how much he hated being a monster, he hated Martin knowing he was a monster more. He entered the circus, weakly walking into his room and laying down. He’s not going to leave for a while, he decides. Clearing his head didn’t work out.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> haha

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry its short and not very good im just fucking vibing

Tim hadn’t left the circus since he saw Martin. He was too scared to. Every time he thought about leaving, he saw Martin’s face, full of heartbreak and loneliness. Even now, just thinking about it made him grimace. He had been keeping himself busy in… other ways. Mainly researching if he could bring Sasha back.

Luckily, researching was something he was rather good at. 

He found himself digging through an ornate chest that had apparently belonged to Nikola. A lot of it was burnt and charred due to his little stunt in the old circus, but the things inside were mostly intact. Hats, gloves, canes, whips and even money were in the large chest. But the most important were the books that he had found. 

One seemed to be hand-bound with the curly font spelling out ‘The Circus Of The Other’s Journal’. It wasn’t very thick and the cover seemed to be made of skin. He didn’t want to think about it. The next was a hardback that was slightly charred from unknown reasons and had blood stains on the pages. It didn’t have a title. The last book was more of a notepad with many notes about the Entities. It didn’t say who it was written by.

He took the first one, ignoring the texture of the cover. He began flicking through it, carefully reading the curly writing. The writing was hard to read at first but he eventually got used to the curls and twirls of the letters. Once he had, he realised that it was simply saying how the Circus grew. He sneered a little bit at the book and placed it down next to him. 

Tim picked up the one with no title, being careful not to touch the blood stains. The pages were documenting facets of the Stranger and the Ringmaster’s grin grew. This might be able to help! He carefully read, making sure not to miss a word. The font in this book was a lot easier to read, being in bolded words. He noticed the words ‘Not Them’ and instantly focused hard on the book. 

He read and reread that book for hours. All of the reading took his mind off of how horribly alone he felt in his little tent. He felt like he had a pretty clear idea on how he could get her back. His grin grew and he stood up with a flourish. He tugged on his gloves and picked up a cane from the box. Tim wasn’t sure how he was supposed to find the monster that took the place of his friend but he fucking would. 

A stranger approached him, surprised that he was out of his tent. He hadn’t left in a while, but he didn’t want to think about that right now! “Hello, Ringmaster. Is there something you need?” They asked, cocking their head and giving him a smile that would disturb anyone who was normal.

Tim smiled back.”Yes, actually. Do you know how to find the Not Them? Or, well, a particular one?” He inquired in response. The stranger looked slightly surprised. They looked confused for a second before looking like they were contemplating it. 

“You may just have to ask for them? You’re technically a different facet of the Stranger, however, they should still listen to you, I believe.” They replied. Tim’s grin spread larger, to the point where it looked like it would split his face open. He quickly thanked them and went back into his tent. 

Okay. Okay, okay, okay! His grin spread further as he rocked back and forth on his feet, excited to get Sasha back. He’d have someone he trusted! But then he paused. What if she was mad at him? What if she hated him for not knowing that it wasn’t her? What if she thought he was a monster? Well, he is a monster, but he didn’t want Sasha to think that. He couldn’t handle it if Sasha thought that. 

He paused in his movements and frowned. He can’t do this. Not if Sasha was going to hate him. Not yet. He can wait for a little. Maybe make himself a bit more human-like? Get back to being the old Tim. Maybe that will help her feel better when she comes back. And it will be a ‘when’. He’s not going to leave her dead even if it kills him. 

The Ringmaster let his body exhale, despite the lack of a need for breath. It’s gonna be fine. Once he summons enough strength, he’ll get Sasha back and everything will be fine. They’ll be together and best friends again and everything will be normal. 

As the thoughts flooded his head, tears began to well in his eyes but he quickly wiped them away. Everything will be fine. He’ll make sure that it will be fine. He grimaced a little. God, he sounds crazy. He doesn’t want to be crazy. Everything will be normal. Once he sees Sasha again and can maybe muster up the courage to talk to Martin again, everything will be amazing. Maybe Jon will wake up. A smile grows on his face at the thought of having his friends back.

**Author's Note:**

> Now, I'm not sure if I'm going to keep writing this, but I liked the idea in theory, so if you like it, please tell me!


End file.
